


Melchi's Mom has Got it Going On

by Icarus (Slickarus)



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: 50s au, 80s AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Back to the Future Au, Crack, Don't Worry About It, F/M, I'm so sorry, Time machine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 02:31:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15305463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slickarus/pseuds/Icarus
Summary: Melchi's mom is a bodacious babe, and her son's a most heinous bully, so Hanschen and his B.F.F. Doc travel back in time so that Hanschen can complete the greatest mission of all time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [I used this glossary](http://www.inthe80s.com/glossary.shtml) and [this timeline (nsfw terms)](http://timeglider.com/timeline/962856e2d593150e). Where's the beef?

The school bell rings. The year? 1985. Hanschen grabs his bookbag and speeds out of the classroom before the teacher can remember about anymore homework she wants to give them over the weekend. He hops on his skateboard and rolls down the hallway towards his locker, swerving to avoid the meathead jocks and their uninterested girlfriends.

“Hey, watch it!” Hanschen rolls his eyes as he ignores whoever just had to jump out of the way of his board, but can’t avoid them when he feels their arm slam up against his shoulder and thrust him into the lockers. Bogus. Luckily his denim jacket pads the impact, but his skateboard goes rolling out from under his feet.

“Eat my shorts, man!” Hanschen says before realizing who exactly has him pinned to the locker.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d like that.” Melchior Gabor smirks and Hanschen squirms under his grip.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense is you not looking where you’re going, Real Slow.” Hanschen rolls his eyes at the childish nickname but doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to come home with another black eye. So he doesn’t point out that if he was going ‘real slow’, Melchior wouldn’t have had to worry about him skateboarding in the hallway.

“Can you get off of me?”

“Why, so you can go home to mommy?”

“Yeah, your mom.” The retort slips out before Hanschen can stop it.

“Excuse me?” Melchior leans in close enough that Hanschen can smell the bologna on his breath.

“You heard what I said. Your mom’s hot, dude.”

Melchior shoves Hanschen into the locker again and walks away. Hanschen rubs the back of his neck and then goes to grab his skateboard from its spot on the floor.

Come to think of it, Frau Gabor  _ is _ a righteous babe, especially for a 47-year-old. Or maybe because of her age. It’s too bad she’s married, and that Hanschen’s only 17, and that she has such an  _ dickweed _ of a son. Maybe without all that, Hanschen might have a chance.

“How’s it hanging, Hanschen?” Hanschen’s head snaps up and he grins when he sees Ilse.

“‘Sup Doc? It’s been a dick year since I saw you!”

“I know, I know, I’ve been busy, homefry. I’ve got a bitchin’ new project that I’ve just completed!”

Record scratch. Freeze frame. Bet you’re wondering who Doc is. Don’t worry about it. She’s a mad scientist and Hanschen’s best friend.

“Well, what is it?”

“Come to my lab after you do your chores, and I’ll show you.”

“Damn Skippy!”

Wipe transition.

Nighttime. It’s still 1985. Ilse’s laboratory is in the garage of her best friend’s uncle’s house. He’s dead. Don’t worry about it. The house still smells of his body, but her friend owns it because she got it in the will, but she doesn't live there. Ilse does. In the garage, though, because it isn’t her house. It’s formerly her friend’s uncles. Whatever.

Hanschen knocks on the garage door.

“Come in, homefry.”

“Door’s locked, Doc.”

“Oh, right.”

After a moment, he hears the sound of Ilse pulling open the garage door, and he sees a familiar sight of her lab inside, with a new addition. She smiles proudly over a beat-up DeLorean. “What do you think?”

“Sweet car. Is this what you wanted to show me?”

“It’s more than just a car. It’s a time machine.”

“For cear?”

“Dead serious. Check it out.”

Ilse presses a button on a complicated-looking remote control in her hand, and the gullwing doors of the DeLorean rise open, nearly hitting the roof of the garage. Imagine dramatic music and fog effects.

“Yar!”

“Hop in.”

Hanschen slides into the passenger seat and Ilse gets behind the wheel.

“I’ve been running tests for months, and I’ve never gone more than a year either way. But I think this baby’s got enough juice to put us anywhere within a hundred years. Where do you want to go? I mean,  _ when _ do you want to go?”

“Well, right now, I guess.”

“No, I mean, to what time do you want to go? Do you want to see this town being founded? This town when you’re old and gray? Do you want to find out what your parents are like?”

“My parents only moved here when I was born.”

“Wow, then they’re pretty much the only ones. It seems like every other adult in this town has been here since they were born and never left.”

“I want to bang Melchior’s mom.”

“What?” Hanschen turned in his seat and stared Ilse dead in the eyes.

“I want to go back in time and have sex with Melchior Gabor’s mother.”

“Cool, just making sure I heard you right. When?”

“Well, I’m seventeen, so how about when she was seventeen? 1955?”

“You got it.”

~Author’s note: now is a good time to inform you that I’ve never seen Back to the Future, so I have no idea how the time machine works~

Ilse pressed a few buttons in the car until the screen showed ‘November 3, 1955’. “Hold on tight.”

She slammed her foot on the gas, and in a blink, the night around them turned to a bright white, and suddenly it was daytime. And the fifties. Hanschen could tell because the car radio immediately started playing Elvis or something. We didn’t do our research.

“Whoa,” Hanschen and Ilse both gaped at the same time.


	2. Chapter 2

Hanschen recognized Frau - Fraulein Gabor the second she walked out of the doors of the high school (which had not changed at all, by the way, except for having gotten grodier. Seriously, they needed some renovation). She had sun-kissed blonde locks (not unlike Hanschen’s sun-kissed blond locks) that were held back by spring green ribbons, and Hanschen saw her laughing as she waved goodbye to one of her friends.

She noticed Hanschen looking at her, and she blushed slightly. He began to walk towards her.

“Excuse me,” he said, doing his best to imitate how people from the fifties sounded on TV. “But I just had to tell you that you’re...you’re...the bee’s knees.”

“Who are you?” She said, though more out of wonder than fear.

“Hanschen Rilow,” he said. “And you?”

“Fanny Knockenbruch. I know, it’s a silly name.”

“I think it’s radical- uh, radiant.”

“Aren’t you a charmer.”

“You’re not going steady with anyone, are you?” Fanny shook her head. “Well, would you like to accompany me out this evening?”

“Where?”

Hanschen racked his brain for what people in the fifties did. He could take her to a drive-through or something, but he didn’t have a car - Ilse was charging up the DeLorean for their return trip.

Fanny seemed to sense Hanschen’s hesitation.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” Hanschen nodded. “Well, perhaps I could give you a ride, show you the town. I’ve been learning to drive my old man’s truck.”

Then that night she drove him to the makeout point and they had totally tubular consensual and protected (Hanschen brought condoms) sex in the bed of the truck.

“Whoa,” Hanschen said as they lay together on the truck bed afterwards. “That was deadly, Frau G.”

“What?”

“I mean, uh, it was hip? What word means awesome?” Fanny laughed and snuggled into Hanschen’s side.

“It doesn’t matter, baby, I get what you mean.”

“Bodacious.” Hanschen said with a grin. “Where’d you learn how to do that? I thought everyone in the - I mean, uh, everyone here was mad repressed.”

“Maybe some of the cats in town, but my parents let me read books about sex so now I know more than everyone else.” Fanny sighed. “It’s frustrating because I have so much sexual knowledge, but no one else does, so I can’t use any of my sexual knowledge with the fine guys in town because to do so would be taking advantage of their naïvety and ignorance.”

“Wow, you really are Melchior’s mom. Except way smarter.”

“Melchior’s mom?”

“Uh, it’s a phrase we use in my hometown. It means a real genius.”

“Melchior’s a nice name.”

“Yes, it is. The kind of thing I’d name my first born son,” Hanschen said, although forcing himself to say those words left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Me too,” she said. “Say, do you want to go steady?” Hanschen shook his head.

“I’m only in town for today, Fanny. Don’t get hung up on me. You’ve got to find yourself a nice man, settle down, have a kid, name him Melchior. A sturdy name, like Melchior Gabor.“

“You know Herman Gabor?”

“No, but he sounds like a real nice guy that would be lucky to have you.”

“Maybe. But in the meantime, how about you wind my ball of yarn?”

“What?”

“I mean let’s go like a herd of turtles.”

“You’re kidding. That can’t be real.”

“But you knew what I meant, and that’s all that matters.”

So they played hide the salami again.


	3. Chapter 3

“And you’re sure that this isn’t going to change anything?”

“Totally. Everything should be fine, except now you’ve gotten it off with Frau Gabor.”

“What if Melchior doesn’t exist? What if the whole town is different?”

“Hanschen. Seriously. Don’t question it.”

“Okay.”

Ilse pressed the same sequence of buttons as before, only backwards, and with another flash of bright light, it was 1985 again and they were in her garage.

“See? Nothing’s changed.”

Well, one thing had.

Hanschen walked straight to the Gabor house - it was a small enough town that he knew the address, although as he rang the doorbell, he realized he’d never really spoken to Frau Gabor as she was now. Unfortunately, Melchior opened the door.

“What do you want, Real Slow?”

“Where’s your mom?” Melchior rolled his eyes.

“She’s in the kitchen. Why, do you want to see her?”

Hanschen nodded and followed Melchior in to the house, towards the kitchen. Frau Gabor stood at the counter, lovely as ever, chopping carrots. She looked up with a smile when Melchior walked in, but then her eyes grew wide when she saw Hanschen, and she dropped her knife.

“Mom? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” Frau Gabor said, unable to take her eyes off Hanschen. Melchior glanced back at him in disbelief, and he smiled. “What did you say your name was, dear?”

“Hanschen. Hanschen Rilow.”

“Oh, that’s Melchi’s middle name.”

_ “Mom!” _

“Really?”

“Yes, he’s named after someone I knew a long time ago. You look just like him. Your father, maybe?”

Hanschen shook his head, still smiling.

“My father didn’t move here until after I was born. And his name isn’t Hanschen.”

“Oh,” said Fanny. “I must be misremembering.”

Hanschen shrugged. “I’d trust your memory, Frau Gabor. And may I say that you’ve raised a fine son.”

“Okay,” Melchior said, practically pulling Hanschen back towards the door until he was out of his mother’s earshot. “What’s going on?”

“I traveled back in time and fucked your mom.”

“You...you…”

Hanschen nodded. “So remember that the next time you want to push me into a locker.”

“You...you...you hoser! I’ll kill you!”

But Hanschen was already walking home, leaving Melchior Gabor sputtering in his front doorway.

Fade to black on a gnarly jam.

 


End file.
